#Andy takes his drinks neat

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cracked my first beer. Who's you're drinking buddy of choice?

[yaekiss]

*crawls in here again* hi qi! for #mailroom open, I'm sending my letter to yan!zhongli. I'll take any gender neutral/masc nicknames, and I'm writing in meme 2. oh, and nsfw reply please lkjhdfg cheers to 400!

My dearest, Zhongli

I'm writing to you under the moonlight of Sumeru. There's... as much to say as the forest is vast. On my travel to the city, a kind forest ranger had given me directions to lodge with a pair of men while I stay. They remind me of you, actually, if you were split in two. They're both quite knowledgeable, being alumni from the Akademiya, but one has a more calm temper like yours, and the other has more refined taste.

I've had a lot of fun here for the time being, but I miss you so. I must be transparent... I may have partaken in some drinks in their company once, a delicate, local vintage. Please forgive me my darling, you must know I'm prisoner to your heart. I wasn't in a clear state of mind as I... kissed them. That's as far as it went, I promise.

I'm sorry to end this on a sour note. And I'm deeply sorry for my actions. My precious, I'll do anything to show you you're the only one for me. All you need is ask.

Awaiting to be in your arms again, your Andi.

(along with the letter is a bouquet of Sumeru roses wrapped in paper and pink ribbon and a pair of handcuffs)

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! Top! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Zhongli, no gendered terms for reader, reader can be read as having a cock or a strap, polycule/polyamory (Zhongli, Alhaitham, and Kaveh are all mentioned in this), small mention of aphrodisiac but not used, possessiveness and unhealthy relationships, worshipping (reader receiving), biting (Zhongli receiving), snowballing, handcuffs (not used on reader), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: I think you better check the contents of your box before bringing it back up to your room. I got some troubling reports from the staff in the mailroom... Tell me if anything is off, I'll be at the counter! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

A not-too-hefty box is passed to you in the hotel lobby when you return to rest for the night. Asked kindly by the staff to double-check its contents, you settle down on a nearby lounge chair before opening it up to inspect what’s inside.

You find a Liyuean tea set, fit for a group of four, the colour of the teaware a beautiful earthy brown, reminiscent of your dearest back in Liyue. In the hotel lighting, light bounces off the surface of the teacup you’re cradling in your hands and reveals an underlying pattern of sheer golden dragon scales. A breath. Oh. He crafted this himself.

Setting the cup back into its cushioned groove in the box, you pick up a sealed bag of tea leaves. Zhongli was the one to introduce you to mixing different types of teas to create a layered taste that you couldn’t find anywhere else. No one else knew your tastes quite like he did, always so frustratingly addictive. You read the attached tag, “An aphrodisiac blend of tea leaves, so I am not the only one left wanting.” That sly dragon, desiring you carnally even miles away.

Of course, no gift from Zhongli is complete without a letter. It’s a little strange that the envelope is not sealed properly, terribly unlike your lover to flub up. But he does seem to always forget to bring his wallet around, perhaps a mindless slip. You know how excited he gets when it comes to matters concerning you, so you chalk it up to enthusiastic forgetfulness.

After removing the letter from the box, you gently close the lid. His letter is written on paper with a stunning gold trim, one he reserves only for letters to you. The words are evenly spaced out, neat, pleasing to the eye (and maybe looking at his handwriting feels a little like coming home). His letter reads: 

“In loving correspondence to my heavenly pearl,

First of all, it is simply wonderful to hear from you again, my pearl. It puts my mind at ease to know that you are still here, present, on Teyvat with me. I know not what I would do if I never heard back from you, I have lost too much, I cannot lose you too… Forgive me for being direct, it must be the aching longing to see you again.

Moving on, I suppose we must address the issue which you deem so pressing. I am sure you will be delighted to hear that I am no stranger to the concept of having multiple lovers, for you are simply just that magnetic, my pearl. This dragon has learnt to be more than generous over the countless millennia I have existed.

(The handwriting seems to get a little more compacted together starting from here, as if he’s growing increasingly frenzied the more he writes.) However, when it comes to you, I wish to be a little selfish. I’d love you to love me, most. I am willing to share but let the two see that only I can please you, that I was the first to capture your heart. Perhaps, if you allowed it, I could even restrain their hands as they watch on at the sight of you pounding into me, marking me up with bites that leave lasting marks. All while I can only hazily mutter out my reverent devotion towards you. How charming you must be, to have an archon grovelling at your feet. But my pearl, you deserve all of me and more.

Would you let me service you, pleasing you until you finish on my forked tongue, before I snake my way over to the two scholars, kissing the both of them? The only way they could ever taste you is through me alone. In my presence at least. Imagine how they would writhe and beg for you in their cuffs, their hard cocks straining against the fabric of their pants, yet they are unable to do anything about it, so pitifully close yet so far. You might call me sadistic, but the thought excites you, no?

(The handwriting returns to its usual normal spacing and formatting at the start of the letter.) …It seems that I have gotten too worked up, I shall leave my response at this. When you return, do bring your two loverboys in tow, yes? I look forward to meeting them.

Utterly yours,

- Zhongli -”

“Thought we’d find you here! What do you have there?” Kaveh’s voice rings out from before you. Looking up, Alhaitham and Kaveh greet you. Kaveh sports a blinding smile while Alhaitham’s face, although appearing neutral, radiates a sort of softness towards you.

“A reply from my lover in Liyue after I sent them a love letter recently.” Your eyes roving over Zhongli’s words in your hands again, you miss the way their eyebrows pinch slightly at how tenderly the words “love letter” rolled off your tongue. 

“Is it the one with the brown tea set?” There’s a tinge of… something in Kaveh’s voice. 

“Yes, he did send me a lovely-” Your mind stills. You’ve never mentioned anything about a tea set yet. The box is closed. The envelope was strangely open when you first took it out.

Your gaze snaps up to them, and they share a conspiratory glance before Alhaitham leans in, whispering lowly next to your ear.

“Kaveh and I were simply thinking we could get a… headstart on showing how much we want to worship you, our prince.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[capndesdesdestiny]

below is js a thing I’m writing ab graves and fem!reader meetin at a bar in San Antonio

hehe this is so dumb.. also I’m a yapper so this is only part 1: initial meeting (no smut.. yet. freak mode loading)

You had never been to Texas before, having been born and raised in Vegas, but as your Uber from the airport glided through the streets of San Antonio, you started thinking all the flashy desert cities got that same seedy vibe.

You had flown in for a good friend’s wedding taking place here on Tuesday, though today was Thursday- you got excited and came a few days early because you’d never been so far from home before, so this was a good opportunity to do some sightseeing. (It was also nice to get some time off of work and get wasted.)

As you neared downtown, you stared out the window, eyes flitting over crumbling remnants of what once was. Dusty brick buildings, churches, littered construction equipment and blocked off alleys. As your Uber neared your hotel, there were more office buildings and tourist spots in your peripheral vision, but you were distracted by your phone at this point, checking to make sure you were dropped off at the correct location.

You’re quickly dropped at the lobby of the swanky looking joint, and your Uber driver helps you get your suitcase out from his trunk, before hurriedly leaving with a small wave goodbye. You check in with the front desk, grab your room card, and head up the elevator, the lack of cigarette stench a pleasant surprise.

You exit the elevator at the top floor, roaming down the hall until you reach your room. The door lock clicks open as you tap your card to the sensor. You let out an amused whistle as sleek modern themes fill your sight. Your gaze roams over a neat desk under a flat screen tv, a fluffy queen bed, a glass nightstand with a small matching lamp, and a comfy recliner next to the wall to wall window, beautifully overlooking… the back of the hotel next door. You shut the door behind you, setting your suitcase by the bed and shrugging your sweatshirt off before wandering into the bathroom. You’re quick in shoving your pants down and hunching over the toilet to piss with your eyes closed, your body weary from your flight.

Soon enough you’re lounging on the bed, clicking your phone on. It’s 7PM now, so while most of the historical spots you’d seen online were closed, you remember your good friend had told you about a pretty river walk with tons of restaurants and bars, and now that you’re looking at it from your maps app, it’s really not a long walk from your hotel.

You slip out of your bummy airport outfit, take a quick shower, and switch the previous walmart fit for a cute sundress and a cropped long sleeve cover. Your hair was almost dry, but even at this time of night you were certain that that summer Texas air was going to dry it up in seconds, much like the air back home. You do your makeup real nice in the bathroom mirror, that signature look that got all your drinks paid for. Once ready, you quickly grab your purse and leave the hotel, stepping out into the busy night.

You use your maps app to walk from your hotel down towards the river walk. The first thing you see as you approach is the pretty lights, shining over various bridges and stone staircases leading groups down by the water. It was a long ass river, and as you make your descent down a staircase you are welcomed by the long stretches of businesses on each side of it. You walk by the river for a while, taking pictures of the bridges, the restaurants, and a few ducks that waddle past you. Groups of friends and family bustle around you as you venture further down the stretch, doing pretty much the same as you. It’s not until you reach a large bar and grill, with live music inside and out, those beautiful lush blue lights shining all around it, that you really stop in place. One more picture of the view, then you quietly step in for a drink.

It’s pretty busy this time of night, the chatter around the tables and bar almost as loud as the jazz band playing on a stage in the corner. You take a seat at the bar, a couple empty stools to your left, and a large group of friends laughing loudly to your right. You patiently wait for your turn to order, though you knew it would probably take a while for the bartender to get through everyone else.

As you wait, you’re blissfully taking in the sights and sounds around you, watching the jazz band in the corner play as you sway your head a little to the soft music. Throughout this moment, though, you start to feel eyes on you, a gaze that burns through the back of your head, watching your every move, studying you. However, you ignore the feeling, enjoying the music as you tap the back of your foot against your stool and sway.

When the bartender finally reaches you, she smiles down at you, her voice shaking you out of your spaced out gaze towards the jazz band. You turn to meet her eyes as she says, “What can I get for you, my dear?”

You clear your throat, almost forgetting what you wanted before you speak, pointing down at a picture on the menu as you do, “Could I get this margarita, the purple one? Looks so yummy.”

She laughs and nods, putting your order in, “Of course, I’ll have that right out.”

You mouth a ‘thank you’ before pulling out your phone, waiting for your drink. You feel that weird feeling again, this strong feeling that someone’s watching you, hiding amongst the crowds of chattering patrons. You set your phone down to look around, when out of the blue a hand comes to rest on the counter to your left, making you jolt.

When you look up beside you, a tall glass of dirty blonde hair and dark blue peepers is pulling up to the seat right next to you, despite another empty one residing a seat away. You couldn’t be annoyed at the fact he could’ve left a gap, since you had done the same to your counter neighbor on your right. Though as you take a second to look him over, you’re increasingly aware of how fine this man is. He’s got a real nice build, and the way that dress shirt fits over his muscles.. the cowboy hat, boots, and belt to finish.. the lighting of the bar bathing his features in a soft blue.. it has your eyes lingering way too long.

He looks over at you as he takes his seat, silently watching as you space out on him, not even noticing him looking at you in return. His eyes peek at you from the side as he settles, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Your drink, ma’am, enjoy,” the bartender’s soft voice snaps you out of your ogling, and she sets a pretty purple margarita down in front of you. It quickly shifts your attention and makes your mouth water with thirst.

“Sorry, thanks so much,” you mutter and take a sip of the drink as the man next to you laughs. You realize you had been staring at him for almost a minute. The sound of his laugh echoes in your head as your ears redden from embarrassment, having been caught checking out a stranger. You try to ignore him as you sip your margarita- which is amazing by the way- but he draws your attention back towards him with a wave of his hand as he holds back another laugh.

“Hey.. I didn’t come to laugh at ya by the way, I don’t mind the attention.. I watched you walk in earlier and thought I’d try my luck at catchin yours, actually, so I’m pretty damn happy..” his voice is a sweet country drawl that rings through your soul, his striking blue eyes capturing you with a stare that has your thighs clenching.

You folded your hands in your lap as you struggled to maintain eye contact, shaking off your previous embarrassment to answer back. “Ah, I’m flattered, thank you,” you take another sip of your margarita before deciding to continue honestly, “you look good.. I like your outfit.”

“I figured, from the staring, or else I probably got something on my face,” he chuckled as his gaze raked down over your dress, then quickly flickered back up to your face, “you’re gonna make me blush, sweetheart.. you look beautiful, what might you be celebrating tonight?”

You clear your throat, playing with the straw of your drink as you look away, “Ah, I was actually just checking out the river walk, I saw this place and thought it was nice.. and a pretty excuse for some drinks.”

He lets out another chuckle at that, quickly ordering a Lone Star from the draft before he shifts in his seat to face you. “So, you’re not from around here, I’m guessing?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, I’m here for a wedding next week, and I have a few days to explore the town and whatnot. I head back home right after the wedding so I’m trying to make the most of my time here.”

He nods at that, he sees an opening. “I wish you were stayin longer, I’d love to get to know a pretty little thing like you.” The bartender passes his glass to him and he takes a long sip, gaze still stuck on you from over the rim.

You can’t help but smile, he was a real charmer. Though you were used to being hit on, and thoroughly skilled in rejecting unwanted attention, when it came to flirting back you were a lost cause. That dad vibe he had going on was slowly breaking your guard down, however, for better or for worse.

“Oh stop it, you’re making me nervous..,” your smile widens as you bat your eyes at him jokingly, “so, um, you’re local? Born and raised here, then?” You hide behind your marg, taking small sips.

His eyes lower a little as you blink up at him, and he bites his lower lip a little, cheesing. He shifts in his seat, his elbow on the counter as he drinks his beer. “Yup. Was out of town for work for a while, so I’m glad to be back home. Why, you curious ‘bout me?” He flashed you a sly smile, his eyes wrinkling slightly at the corners.

You cross one leg over the other, giving him your full attention now as you play with your straw. A blush sneaks onto your cheeks as you sway a little on your stool. “I guess you could say that… what do you do for work, if I might ask?”

“I’m, uh,” there was a small pause as he thought about how to word this, taking a swig from his drink, “I’m a contractor, of sorts.”

“Oh! That’s cool! I’m sure that pays well, right?” You curse at yourself for being so awkward. You wave politely at the bartender. It’s time for another drink.

“Mm, it’s not bad,” he murmured lowly. The pay was amazing. But he wasn’t exactly keen on talking about work right now. Nor was he able to go into the finer details, as he had just returned from committing war crimes overseas for two months. He ordered another beer, watching you swing your legs and avoid eye contact. “By the way, I don’t think I got your name, darlin’..”

“Oh! Shit, that slipped my mind, I’m sorry,” you tell him your name, “..and you?”

“Call me Phil, hon.”

end of pt 1

hope this was okay for now o(^▽^)o I’ll continue this some other time

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Characters are completely aged up and this takes place after what will happen in beyond the spiderverse. I just made a little MJ variant and I think she's neat. I've been writing standalone scenes of her life after meeting Hobie and my friends really liked it so I thought I'd polish it up a little and post it. Nothing serious just some silly fun. (also I'm sorry I'm just not a y/n person, I just want to make characters who are developed and can have their own distinct personalities.) My MJ may not be for everyone but I hope you give her a shot.

Can also be read on Ao3 X

Chapter 1

She’s wiping off the counter and looking over at the small dodgy stage the pub has in the corner. She’s surprised the thing hasn’t collapsed in on itself. It has a couple of the instruments set up already for the band tonight. She feels someone bump her hip and she looks over to see her coworker raising a brow at her.

“Why don’t you wrap up early? You’re meeting your friends, right?” Andy asks her smiling.

MJ shrugs, “It ends in like fifteen and the band doesn’t start for another twenty. It’s fine, I don’t even think they've walked in yet.”

“Go on, grab a good spot at the front. I got it back here.” Andy encourages.

MJ rolls her eyes and keeps cleaning, “No seriously. I don’t even know who this band is. My friends want to see them. I’ll wrap it up in ten and look for them. I need to change out of these clothes anyway.”

“Whatever, you know half of the girls in here are already buzzin’. They’ve been drinking for the past hour looking for a shot of courage.” Andy says laughing.

MJ nudges her letting some giggles out too, “Stop, Andy! Leave them alone, they’re barely old enough to get in. They just want to see some hot musicians.”

“Who’s gonna tell them that most of the musicians are indeed, not hot, when they do small pub shows like us?” Andy says starting to pop open a beer for a customer.

“Oh, come off it, apparently this band does everything and anything. Good too, at least my friends say.” MJ says handing Andy another beer for the same group.

“You better clock out, you’ll miss your window to not be trapped back here.” Andy tells her looking at the clock.

“Oh shit, thanks!” MJ quickly dodges around the bar to get to the back so she can grab her bag and change.

She rushes into the bathroom and quickly changes into something a little cuter than her pub shirt and black slacks.

She pulls her rosy pink slip dress out and easily slides it on. Shoving her other clothes into her backpack. She adjusts her necklaces and looks into the mirror, checking to make sure her hair’s still passible. She adjusts the twin buns but just shrugs a minute later. It’s a punk show it doesn’t matter if she looks nice. She checks to make sure nothings on her and makes her way back out.

She throws her bag back where her other belongings are and wades through a decent sized crowd. She can’t find her friends but does make her way to the front. She checks her phone and sees that her friends had texted and canceled coming last minute. She groans in irritation, and turns to try and leave but the crowd has gotten thicker and she’s stuck. She’s jostled into someone who grabs her waist and she whips her head around smacking the hands.

“Hands off!” she growls looking up at the man. He throws his hands up but his grin is slimey. MJ keeps her glare.

“You bumped into me sweetie.” He chuckles.

She rolls her eyes, “Doesn’t mean you get handsy with me.” She mutters turning back to the stage. 

She sees her coworker Lars come out to push the crowd back, she feels a little better knowing she has an easy escape if she needs to. He settles in the corner of the stage, watching the crowd. Within a few seconds the band comes out and she settles a bit. She might as well enjoy the show.

She feels someone sidle up to her side, pressing into her, and she turns her head to see the same man from before smiling at her.

“Back up. I don’t play this game.” She hisses out shoving him off of her.

“C’mon, not a big deal, it’s a massive crowd in here. It’s tight is all.” He says slurring his words.

MJ puffs her cheeks in irritation and points her finger into his chest, “Do not fucking touch me again.” She flashes her eyes over to Lars and he nods his head, acknowledging her.

The guy takes a step back but is still looking at her in a predatory way that makes her skin crawl. She turns to the stage to try and pay attention to the band.

The music’s loud, booming, and it has her moshing with a small group near the front. She’s having a blast for the first few songs, then she feels it.

The guy that’s next to her starts to grab her bum. She turns around and slaps the guy across the face, “I said to not fucking touch me!” She shouts at him. The music’s too loud, the lights are in her eyes, and her bodies hot with rage and adrenaline. She turns to try and spot Lars but the man grabs her by the arm tightly, pulling her closer.

“C’mon I know a slag like you when I see one,” He starts to say, mouth too close to her face so she can smell how intoxicated he is.

She reels back her free arm, hand curled into a fist, but before she can deck the drunk someone else does.

She sees combat boots fly by and her eyes widen as she sees the guitarist drop kick the guy who’s grabbing her.

Her jaw falls open in shock as the man lands perfectly fine in front of her. His guitar strapped to his back is all she sees as he stands between her and the man he just sent to the floor. She for the first time in a while, is stunned speechless.

“Mate, I don’t know who raised ya, but we don’t touch people without consent at my shows.” The guitarist says, voice deep and his face hard as he glares at the man on the ground.

The man tries to crawl off the ground, the crowd around them parting to see what’s happening.

“She’s with me man! What’s your problem?” the man tries to defend pointing at her.

Her anger continues to boil and she opens her mouth to defend herself but the guitarist responds first.

He nudges his head back to her and gives a bitter laugh, “Ya need a better lie cause she’s with me.” He tells him.

She shuts her mouth, looking at him like he’s mad for only a second. She most certainly is not with him but she sure as hell will act like it. She doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night with some creep touching her.

Her eyes flash to the other guy who’s face pales, “Sorry, sorry!” He throws his hands up in defense laughing, “Didn’t know she was yours!”

The guitarist shakes his head and crosses his arms tsking at the man. “Wooooooooow,” he drags out exaggeratedly. “She doesn’t belong to anyone.” He says, and gives a small chuckle.

The other guy is looking at him, a little in fear, as he tries to laugh along with him. The guitarist quickly stops chuckling and throws a quick but hard punch to the creep’s face.

“Apologize to her.” The guitarist demands voice harsh and cold.

The man’s holding his bruising cheek, looking at her eyes filled with fear, “M’sorry alright! I won’t touch you again I swear!” he shouts rushing through his words.

The guitarists steps forward getting closer to the guy at eye level, “For the record, it shouldn’t take me lying about us being a couple for ya to respect her.”

The second he steps back MJ sees Lars come through and grabs the guy dragging him off. He tries to fight against Lars but that man is bigger than most and he works in security for a reason.

“You alright?” The guitarist asks his voice much softer, turning around to face her.

She���s stunned for a moment and just nods her head, “Uh yeah, yeah, thanks.” She says shocked.

“No problem.” He grins and jumps back on the stage.

She’s a little floored at what just happened but she looks around her and the crowd has closed in again, looking back up at the stage.

“Sorry for the delay there, but a not so friendly reminder, don’t act like a prick and touch people without consent ya? You will not be escorted out without a black eye.” One of the other band members says addressing the crowd.

The crowd roars with cheering as they start up another song, MJ really can only laugh and just rolls with it. The whole time making intensely too much eye contact with the tall guitarist whose wicks frame his face as he vibes with the music.

By the time the shows over, she’s able to wiggle herself out with the help of Lars. A lot of the crowd stays, still high off the show.

“Great save back there Lars, maybe we should hire that guy when people get handsy with the staff.” She jokes smacking his chest.

“Piss off MJ, I was gonna throw him out after you clocked him but, well, I didn’t have to.” He laughs holding the door to the back open.

“Night Lars, seriously though, thanks for taking the guy out.” She laughs going to grab her backpack and head back home.

He shakes his head at her and steps back helping to pack up the band’s equipment.

“Oi! Hey,” The guitarist from before comes up to Lars, “Is that girl here? The one who had that prick touch her? I wanted to talk to her.” He says.

Lars looks over him curiously raising a brow, “Oh, no she left. She works here if you wanted to try to find her.” He offers casually.

“No, no, just wanted to know she’s okay.” The guitarist replies shoving his hands in his vest pockets.

“Oh, I promise she’s fine, takes a lot more than that to shake her.” Lars chuckles. “She gave me a warning look and I was ready to grab him when he put his hands on her.”

“Good, good.” The guitarist nods in approval. He starts to walk back towards his band, who’s packing up the last of their stuff.

He keeps the name of the pub in the back of his head with the image of a pink girl with maroon colored hair.

Two weeks pass and MJ’s behind her bar working on a few drinks when she sees a seemingly familiar face plop a seat.

She gives the person their drink and turns to address the new face, when she’s met with a familiar voice. “Hey stranger.” The guitarist from before greets cheekily leaning into the bar top.

She beams at him, “Hey! Lars told me you were asking around for me after the show. Sorry I didn’t stay.”

He just shrugs nonchalantly, “No biggie, just wanted to know you were fine is all.”

She gives a soft laugh shaking her head, “Trust, I’m good. I was gonna clock him and let Lars handle him but…” She trails off giving him a pointed look, “You handled it just fine.” She teases.

“Oof, I woulda loved to see ya give him a mean right hook though.” He chuckles.

She shakes her head in disbelief, “Maybe next time.” She smiles softly.

“Oh? Already planning the next time we’ll hit someone who’s being a sexist prick?” he smirks leaning closer to her on the bar top.

She gives him a genuine laugh, loud and it shakes her body. “Absolutely.”

A beat of silence passes between them before she decides its time to do her job, “So, what can I get ya?”

“Your name preferably.” He replies easily flashing her a smile.

Genuine surprise flashes across her face and then a hot flush across her cheeks.

“Depends,” She fires back, teasingly. He raises a brow at her.

“I’m MJ to most people, especially the ones I’ve just met.” She says easily. Grabbing a clean glass.

Something lights up in his eyes for a split second, like he’s found something he’s been looking for.

“I like that, what’s it short for?” He presses.

“Mmmm, I don’t know, you are asking for my government name and I don’t even have your first name.” She says playfully tilting her head.

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He says without giving it a second thought.

She bites her lip, hesitating, but caves under his warm eyes. She feels a pull towards this man, and maybe she’s just projecting because he stuck his neck out for her, but she feels pulled to him none the less.

“Mariana Jimenez-Watson.” She gives him.

He grins so big it could almost split his face, “I like Mariana.” He tells her softly.

Her face warms up again and she turns to fill the glass with water. “Let’s settle for MJ alright?” she says.

“Alright.” He murmurs.

[youssefguedira]

missing fencing worlds so have this (set in a slightly different version of my regular fencing au but everyone's weapons are still the same)

Joe makes it to the final.

He beats the standing world champion 13-15, after a video review called by the Hungarian team – and they'd both been holding their breath as they waited for the result, Joe's heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest – didn't succeed in getting the referee to award his opponent the point instead, and Joe makes it to the final. He's never made it this far before. Nobody on his team has made it this far in years. His hands are still shaking while he watches the bronze medal match, Hungary just narrowly beating Japan for the bronze.

When he checks his phone, there's a text waiting from Andy. Italy pulled silver in team. We saw the semi-final. You got this, Joe.

And from Nicky, simply: In bocca al lupo.

Joe doesn't get a chance to respond before his coach calls him over, and he turns his phone off and sets it aside.

He's not sure he fully believes what's happening – he's in a World Championships final – until he's walking back onto the piste, new sword in hand, trying to get himself back under control. He's already come incredibly far just to be here, as his coach reminds him before the match starts. All he has to do now is his best.

The first two points go to his opponent: French, currently ranked second in the world to Joe's 16th, a nice enough guy on the few occasions Joe's had to meet him. One of them is simply skill, the other is an oversight on Joe's part, and when the bout resumes Joe grits his teeth and forces himself to concentrate. It's nothing he hasn't done before in training. He can do this.

The next point is his, a neat hit to his opponent's wrist just as the other is starting to attack. Joe dodges away before his opponent's hit can land and the referee calls halt. He gets two more, then loses one, then manages another at the very end, a point that initially goes to his opponent but is turned over when Joe's coach calls for a video review and wins. She's got a sharp eye for that kind of thing. The first round ends 4-5 in Joe's favour.

The break isn't long enough for him to do more than have a quick drink and talk briefly to his coach, but when he looks over at the area where the rest of his team is watching, Nicky is there too. He's out of his kit by now, wearing a plain black hoodie and jeans instead of his team jacket. He catches Joe's eye right before the minute is up and offers him a small, reassuring smile.

(The rest of the team have never really asked about what Nicky is to Joe, and Joe's never volunteered the information, even if he's fairly sure most of them have caught on. None of them have ever showed any overt approval or disapproval – it's just something they don't discuss – but the fact that they're letting Nicky sit with them now is a show of support that makes him feel… he's not quite sure, yet, and he doesn’t have the time now to think about it.)

The start of the second round is better for him, at least, and he gets three points up in the first 30 seconds, all three just slightly too quick for his opponent to catch him in time. It's his main strength, and he knows it. But then his opponent gets one, and it breaks Joe's rhythm enough for him to lose another, and another, and another. He manages to get four in the end, but loses the round 4-6. It could be worse. It could be much worse.

"Don't lose your head, Joe," his coach tells him during the second break. "This is just another bout, understand? You can do this." He nods, once, and his coach claps him on the back. "Get out there and finish this."

Joe changes sword for the last round, so they have to re-test. His heart is racing, enough that he has to take slow, measured breaths in an attempt to settle it down. His coach is right: this is nothing he hasn't done a thousand times before. If he doesn't think about the stakes, this could be any other bout.

They're at 10 to 9 going into the last round, which is much better than Joe had ever dreamed of doing. As long as he stays he's focused, he has a chance, and that's what he thinks about as he pulls his mask on and steadies himself.

He starts by feinting an attack to the head and dropping his blade at the last second to hit his opponent's flank instead, which evens out the score, at least. The second goes to his opponent, Joe's parry coming just too late to block the attack. But then he gets the next two, and he's in the lead.

On the fourth point, they both hit: Joe's certain it's his, but the referee awards it to his opponent instead. His coach calls for a video review that doesn't change anything.

The fight goes on until they're both at 14 points in total. Whoever gets the next one will win, and Joe – Joe can do this.

He starts out fast, careful to make sure he is the one with the right of way going into the attack, and his opponent lunges but Joe steps back just enough that the sword misses and then he ripostes before his opponent can recover, and the light goes off, and the referee calls it, and the bout is over, and Joe wins.

Behind him, the rest of his team is cheering; the stands are, too, more people than he's ever fenced in front of before. He's certain he's shaking all over as he takes his mask off, as he fumbles with his bodywire and has to try three times to get the damn thing unplugged – his opponent is still standing there as if in shock – eventually his coach comes over to the piste to help him with the wire and set his sword to one side before she embraces him, saying something he can't quite make out over the roar of the stands, and then the rest of his team are surrounding him, all speaking at once, all clapping him on the back and hugging him and laughing, and he's certain there are tears in his eyes.

Then Nicky's there, too, hugging him tight and laughing. "World champion, Joe!" he half-shouts just to be heard, and Joe's half laughing, half crying as Nicky sways them both back and forth. When Nicky pulls back, he cups the back of Joe's neck, and Joe wants to kiss him so badly he aches but he can't, not here with all these people watching, with the cameras that are almost certainly still focused on him, because he won – so Nicky pulls him back in again, kisses his cheek before stepping away completely but staying close.

Then Joe has to go so they can set up the stadium for the medal ceremony, goes from the chaos of the main stadium to the quiet of the changing room, where the rest of the team congratulate him again before leaving him to take a moment to himself before the medal ceremony.

Alone, in the changing room, Joe calls his mother.

She picks up on the second ring. "Yusuf!" she cries excitedly, and Joe smiles even though she can't see it.

"Mama," he says, voice shaking just a bit. "Did you see?"

"I saw, I saw," his mother says. "I'm so proud of you, habibi."

Joe almost starts crying in earnest at that, manages to hold it back just enough to be able to speak. They don't talk for long – Joe is called back out for the medal ceremony a few minutes later – but his mother makes him promise to call again soon, when they can talk properly.

Joe does cry at the medal ceremony, unable to properly hold it in anymore, must look like a mess when the national anthem starts, manages to just about compose himself enough for the picture they take of him with his medal and his Champion du Monde certificate which he barely manages to hold still, his hands are shaking so badly. The team surrounds him again after the picture, all talking over him too quickly for him to process what they're saying, but they let him go after a little while with a promise to celebrate properly tomorrow, when the tournament ends.

He stops off at his hotel room just long enough to shower and change and check his phone (just a text from Nicky, reading We're at Andy's – see you soon.) He leaves the certificate but takes the medal with him, knows they'll all want to see it. Andy's team is on the floor above his, so it doesn't take long before he's outside the door.

Nicky is the one who lets him in before Joe's even had a chance to finish knocking, grins at him widely and tugs him inside by the hand, kicks the door shut behind him. Before Joe even has a chance to speak, Nicky presses him back against the door and kisses him the way he hadn't been able to earlier, long and slow like they've got all the time in the world, one hand cupping Joe's jaw to keep him steady, the other slipping under Joe's shirt to rest on the small of his back. Joe melts into it, looping his arms around Nicky's neck, and it feels like forever they stand there and at the same time it's barely a heartbeat before Nicky pulls back but doesn't, letting Joe rest his head on Nicky's shoulder instead. He doesn't say a word when Joe starts crying again, just strokes his hand over Joe's curls, kisses his temple and holds him tight.

"I told you you could do it, didn't I?" Nicky murmurs. "You owe me, now."

It's true – he'd bet Joe when they both arrived in Cairo that this would be his year, finally. Joe laughs, and it comes out sounding a little like a sob.

Evidently, the grace period afforded to them by the others ends then, because Nile appears in the doorway to the rest of the suite and nudges Nicky out of the way before hugging him so tight he almost can't breathe. "That was incredible, Joe!"

"Thank you, thank you," Joe says, laughing. Nicky watches them both with a soft, fond smile as Nile pulls back and leads him by the hand into the suite's sitting room where the others are waiting: Quynh and Andy in one of the armchairs, Quynh perched on the armrest with Andy's arm around her waist keeping her steady; Booker on the other with Lykon sitting in the middle of the floor. Joe takes the couch amid the excited chattering of the others, and Nicky sits down beside him, lifting his arm to let Joe curl into his side without being asked. Nile sits on Joe's other side, resting her legs against his.

"We saw the whole thing," Quynh says. "That last point was beautiful, Joe." Andy nods her agreement, and Nicky squeezes Joe's hand. Joe's grinning so wide it hurts.

"Show us the medal, then," Nile says. Joe obliges.

It's Nile's second Worlds, this year: she's the newest addition to their group, having narrowly beaten Andy for the silver medal after making it onto the US team for winning the college league. She's one of the favourites to win in women's individual foil, even above Andy, and they'll all be rooting for her tomorrow. The US team's already taken bronze in the team competition, losing against Andy's team to make it to the final. She's doing well this year.

"We knew you could do it," Lykon said. "France didn't have a chance. No offence, Book."

"None taken," Booker says good-naturedly, but immediately negates it by adding, "We'll beat you tomorrow anyway."

"Like hell you will," Lykon says. "I already beat you once, old man, I'll do it again."

"And that's tomorrow's problem," Andy announces loudly to cut off any arguments before they get going. "Tonight is for Joe, you two."

Joe loves them all so, so much. Andy produces a bottle of sparkling grape juice from the suite's minifridge, because they don't drink alcohol in the group anymore, both for Joe's sake and especially since Booker's return. She pours it out into the shitty plastic champagne flutes from the pack she'd brought with her when they arrived, anticipating this very scenario, and hands each one of them a glass.

"To the new world champion, then," she says then, smiling as she lifts her glass. "We're proud of you, Joe."

Joe doesn't trust himself to speak, so he just smiles as the rest of them echo her before they drink. After, Nicky kisses the top of his head, whispers, "I love you," quiet enough that the others can't quite hear, already bickering about one thing or another, and in that moment Joe is the happiest he's ever been.

[chaotictarlos]

WIP WEDNESDAY

thanks for the tag @carlos-in-glasses

When Carlos shows up at the place he’s supposed to meet the guy that Marjan has set him up with, he’s early - almost too early for it to be considered normal but he’s nervous. It’s been some time since he’s gone out on an actual date and not just found someone at a club or bar to hook up with for the night.

He takes a look around the restaurant, trying to decide if he wants to find a table to sit down at or get a quick drink at the bar but his eyes land on TK and Carlos feels his stomach turn slightly. 

TK’s out on a date and for a moment that’s all Carlos can focus on.  He looks hard at the man he’s with and realizes it’s not Michael. Carlos also knows Michael - there was a time when Paul tried to set him up with Michael but he wasn’t really Carlos’ type.

No, this is another guy. A new guy.

Carlos feels his stomach twist into knots and the unfamiliar and ugly feeling of jealousy fills his veins too. He hates the feeling but the longer he stares at TK and his date, the more it grows. He turns on his heel and heads straight for the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe and get his head on straight before his own date arrives.

Carlos steps up to a sink and grips the edges, looking down and letting out a deep breath. He’s being ridiculous, is what he’s being. He doesn’t need to continue to pin after TK and what could have been, if TK wanted any part of that he’s had plenty of time to say something and instead he’s gone on a few dates with other men - which is fine, TK owes Carlos nothing and Carlos knows that.

He looks up at his reflection and reminds himself that he has also had plenty of chances to tell TK that he still has some feelings for him and has thought about what it would be like to try again, but he hasn’t said anything either. He rubs a hand over his face and tries not to mess up his hair.

He squares his shoulders and looks at himself intently.

“You are going to forget about your feelings for TK and have a good time tonight,” Carlos tells himself. The words sound weak but Carlos doesn’t focus on that. He’s going to have a good time. He wants to have a good time tonight.

Carlos splashes some water on his face and pats his face dry before smoothing down the dark blue button-down that he’s wearing. He retucks it into his black dress pants and makes sure there isn’t a single hair out of place before he walks out of the bathroom. 

He ignores TK and his date, not wanting to get up into his head, and decides to just find the hostess and tell her that he has a reservation. She’s quick to show him to his table and hand him a drink menu. Carlos studies it for a long time and when the waiter comes back to inquire if he wants anything, he orders a glass of wine and lets the waiter know that he’s waiting on another person.

It’s only ten minutes later that the hostess is leading a man to Carlos’ table. Carlos takes the time that he’s walking over to check him out. The man is a few inches shorter than Carlos, tanned from the Austin sun - it makes Carlos wonder if he spends a lot of his time outside - he has strong shoulders, a nice definition of muscles from what Carlos can see, and a charming smile that has Carlos smiling in return. His hair is messy, as if he’s been running his fingers through it nervously but Carlos like it, he feels like it matches his date more than a neat hairstyle would.

Carlos stands up and offers his hand when his date stops in front of their table.

“Good evening, I’m Carlos,” Carlos says politely. The man takes his hand and gives it a firm shake.

“I’m Andy,” Andy says, voice so smooth it has Carlos’ stomach fluttering with butterflies. Carlos gestures for him to take a seat before sitting down himself.

“I hope you don’t mind, I ordered a glass of wine while I was waiting. I’m sure our waiter will be by soon and we can get you a drink as well.”

Andy chuckles, “It’s no problem. Marjan told me what you do for work and I’m sure you could probably use a glass of wine.”

Carlos smiles, chuckling a bit because Andy isn’t wrong.

“Today wasn’t as stressful as the days usually are, but you’re not wrong,” Carlos says. “I’m in the middle of needing to make a decision about work and it’s not an easy one.”

“What decision, if you don’t mind me asking?” Andy asks, leaning forward and Carlos likes that. It shows that he’s interested in the conversation.

no pressure tags: @brouill3r @thebumblecee @mooshkat @cowlos-reyes @meditating-honey-badger @lightningboltreader @detective-giggles @noxsoulmate @angeltk @sanjuwrites

[brooklynislandgirl]

Frank versus The Panda. Who's limping away and who is knocked out?

Consider It A Challenge || Accepting {{tagging: my darling @wardogsong }}

It takes Beth nearly an hour or more to answer the question texted to her, as it is precisely the amount of time it takes to finish one remarkably large cup of coffee and flush the exhaustion from her system. The key mistake she makes is reading the message aloud, including the fact that it comes from an unknown number. "Like I need more context," she says. "You an' him scrap f' fun, or like beef seriously? Or is it in a sorta...pin me f' wall an' kiss me-" "For fuck sake, Beth. I'm eating." She glances at her older brother across the table. "Well, dat why I say need more conte-" "Seriously? I will hang you off the roof. Don't think I can't or won't." "Blah blah, protest too much. You jus' jealous 'cause I t'ink he's really neat, an' every kine about him offend ya sensibilities." She isn't wrong. Her brother was a modern-day superman,sure. Went through the pipeline and everything to be a combat Pararescueman. Sure, there were certain classified missions that went beyond the parameters of the job, but isn't that what got Frank in trouble, too? If the situation were drinking, she is absolutely certain Andy would put him in the bag. He doesn't think she knows, but he'd been drinking since at least fifteen. If it's a fist-fight? Her brother is completely hosed.First, she's absolutely certain Frank would fight God and win. And if he doesn't? He'll get up. He'll keep going until he's the last man standing, which mystifies her. He laughed her off once, when she tried to bring it up. Said it was just because he was a marine, and they don't know when to quit. She's grown up surrounded by them and by sailors and she knows he's not being untruthful but...there's something there. She saw the x-rays. She read his charts. She patches him up when he comes to her and there's always a new scar, a new wound that wasn't there before. He doesn't come to her because he needs her. He comes because he's too tired to do it himself. She knows about ghosts. Most of the Traditions do, and even some of the others will grudgingly admit to it out of one side of their mouths while talking about how to destroy or contain them out the other. Once, when she brought up her suspicions without naming names, her cabal-mate told her that there were rumours. Legend tells him that the first of that kind was Persephone. But even he, more knowledgeable about the dead than Beth ever cares to be, knows little more than that. Could Frank really be one of the Risen as they're called? She's too afraid to ask. But if he is... If he is...then life is about to get a whole lot more complicated than she's capable of considering this very moment. {Text: Anonymous} Depending on what you mean on the question, I'm going to put my money on Frank Castle every time. First, he's a Devil Dog. Second, he's Frank and I don't think even my brother really gets that, you know?

[ikura-wa-ikura]

Disney day!

We got to Disney a little after open and wow it was packed! Absolute madness. Japanese at Disney go hard!! Everyone was decked out in full gear, buying so much shit. We’re talking hats, shirts, toys, pins, towels. People dropped cash 🤑🤑 so naturally we had to as well. We purchased our first hats of the day, me- dark blue velvet ears, Thomas- a Baymax plushy head. Excellent choices. Tokyo Disney had a great app that shows ride waits in real time. You can also book shows, restaurant reservations and more on there.

The park is centered around a giant lake which the different sections branching off of that. A massive volcano sits atop the lake which goes off intermittently. The park is broken into an Italian section, the American waterfront, the little mermaids grotto, Agrabah, and the volcano area which also houses 20,000 leagues under the sea in it so has a cool old steampunk look to it.

Instead of doing an all day fast pass you can now pay individually for specific rides. The priority pass would range from $6-$13 depending on the ride. We didn’t mind paying bc entry into the park was only $54, wayyyy cheaper than American so a few more bucks to cut the line wasn’t a big deal. I heard lines can get crazy long so we jumped on that and booked a priority pass for Toy Story. While we waited for it to start, we explored the Venetian side of the park. It was gorgeous, truly made you feel like you are in Italy. We took a gondola ride and now I’ve ridden a gondola in Las Vegas and Japan lol! Disney is fun because vendors sell items or food that are only at that stand. So if you see something, buy it! Which we did with all the food we saw. Everything was seriously top notch. We kept seeing people eating popcorn out of speciality buckets- a Pooh Bear honey pot, a monsters inc one. And hella lines for the popcorn. Turns out they all sell different flavors of popcorn and sell different novelty buckets. We did pass on this, too much other food to snack on. We headed to the American waterfront where Toy Story is housed and cut the line with our priority pass. You are instantly transported to Andy’s room, where everything is gigantic. The ride is a 3D shooting ride where you compete against your partner to hit the most targets on the room. Thomas smoked me.

Next up was Tower of Terror which Thomas was not thrilled for but I was stoked! Again we got a priority pass and cut the line (so worth it) and it was a thrill. The waiting areas for all these rides are so detailed and done up. Really adds to the experience.

Next we wandered over to the volcano area and explored the fortress that was there. Lots of nooks and crannies with different things hidden inside of them. Thomas ate his first turkey leg! The cannons were pop guns where you pulled a cord to fire and smoke came out. Then we went over to do the Journey to the Center of the Earth ride. This area was amazing! All steam punk and brass. We ate an incredible long gyoza dumpling and the ride was super fun.

They had a shop full of Baymax stuff. Next we cross over to 10k leagues under the sea. You ride on a “submarine” and it was neat. After we walked over through the Mermaid side of the park which honestly might have been my favorite. It was for little kids but the most intricate and beautiful. There were so many little details to look at and take in. After that we wandered to Discovery Park which is a futuristic science park. We got shrunk down to Nemo’s size in a fish boat and then also rode a bumper boat trip of ride that was very fun.

After we had a tasty sushi roll with chicken and shrimp and took the train back to American Bay and had lunch at Sakura. It was a traditional Japanese box with fish and rice and cold udon. After we went over to the giant cruise ship which had a Teddy Roosevelt bar. I (Thomas) stayed there and had a few drinks in the wood paneled bar while Meag went and watched a show. The show was the midday parade, but at this park it’s done on boats on the big lake. Very funny to hear Japanese Minnie and Mickey. Then we met up and rode a little roller coaster ride. It had a loop! I’ve never been upside down.

After that we got tiny alien dumplings and queued up as single riders for Indiana Jones ride which was also amazing. We wandered back to the main area after that for a little snack and to watch the light show. Meag got spaghetti and meatballs and the light show was great. They come out on so many boats. A lot of the signing was Japanese and they circled an enormous light tower. They even projected things onto the volcano! It was great. When that finished we heard they cancelled the firework show 😭so we headed home tired and happy.

It was such a cool cool day. Very happy we checked it out!

[frilly2023]

Frilly Seems to Be Falling...? 🥺🥸🍂💚🍁🌋🎹⛓🎾🕯⚖

Frilly is still cute and ever present, but she seems to be falling.

She comes to practice to take notes on the other musicians for Andre Riue, and, though she knows the singers and the singing, she doesn’t want to double up for some reason and it’s not in the job.  She makes much less money than people like Andre Rieu.  She doesn’t have to practice for this, so this job doesn’t make more than the musicians.  She does have to make it neat and organized, so it pays a normal amount, which is a lot these days.  She comes in dressed up in her black suit, with pants and a vest over the undershirt.  It’s not a business suit but is still as nice but not as fancy.  She does her work well and, though enjoyable, is hard.  It’s hard organizing it, but she does a good enough job and puts in extra effort.  The actual notetaking and the actual judging and then thinking during and after goes well, as well.  Her job is sorta extra, but it helps some people.

Next, it is time to get on the plane.  She has made Andy like her adopted dad in her love for him and wanting to cuddle with him, but he usually just picks her up himself, so it seems.  She has fun at the airport.  She doesn’t need to buy a souvenir in the Netherlands since she always returns there.  She saves up her money and has a good amount.  She also gets money playing violin with others, like in both smaller and larger combinations.  She buys the food she is hungry for and drinks, too.  She looks at the books and buys a new one she likes to flip thru and take notes on sometime, just so she can keep up with some things in the world that entertain her, as much as what’s going on in classical music.  She has on another nice black suit.  Her hair is tied in a ponytail on the side, maybe naturally lighter overall than most who have gray hair, “‘nuff said” (enough said.)  She has her bag.  Her hair is curling more near the end and is smooth and a little sparkling.  Everyone is tired and needs itself coffee.  They are excited to perform.  They present a good image, thanks to their efforts and their being inspired and led by Andre (Rieu.)  They “board the plane.”  Frilly is in back and has fun in back of the plane.  She does use the toilet.  She has the drinks and snacks.  She is in an aisle alone and “has a blast.”

They get out and Andre is standing around.  She does notice, and someone walks over to him and they start to talk.  They sit around and he looks bored.  Finally, they get to the hotel by bus.  They unload.  Some eat there together.  After they eat and freshen up, Frilly goes over to Andre sitting by an aquarium with bubbles.  She comes close and he touches her and she touches him and gets closer and he lets her hug him.  He talks and she whimpers back.  Her blond hair is pretty light with the natural highlights, and her blue eyes seem to twinkle well, and it’s like, “Twinkle, twinkle, little star!”  Her skin is healthy cream and gold with some flush.  It’s pretty light now, in the brumal air condition.  She is tired but ready to be picked up.  She is pretty light but strong.  She rests sitting on his arm as he holds her up.  She’s tired, and he rubs her to sleep.  He holds her hair as it kisses her cheek.  He puts her to sleep in her own room, and locks it and goes out and relaxes and then has some fun.

[lvebug]

call andie too trusting and you wouldn't be the first one to do so, but she likes talking to strangers. even when those strangers are men in bars who may or may not be ("but usually are!" rings jessie's voice in her head) trying to hit on her. she just doesn't mind a little friendly conversation wherever it comes from and this man is no different. he's got a cowboy hat on and a southern accent thick enough to wear as a winter coat, so he might as well be a member of her family as far as she's concerned. nothing here not to trust. besides he's been absolutely nothing but polite so far.

she reads the label carefully when he spins it her way, SAMUEL ADAMS in neat white font across the label, then takes a sip of her own drink. hers is plenty sweet—it leaves nothing but sugar on her tongue with every sip. but just like meetin' new people she's always up for tryin' new things. he sounds genuine, and his offer to have her accompany him only makes him seem moreso.

"tell you what, that's mighty kind of you. i'll take you up on that offer, but there's just one caveat: i never drink with strangers." rising just a half inch out of her own seat, she sticks half her body as well her hand across the table to offer a handshake and grins at the man. "i'm andie."

he’s  surprised  to  note  how  she  gestures  for  him  to  join  her  .    and  maybe  he  shouldn’t  be  ,    considering  he’s  sort  of  the  one  who’s  gone  and  invited  himself  over  to  her  table  and  struck  up  a  conversation  he’s  aware  she  may  or  may  not  want  ,    on  account  of  her  sitting  by  herself    …    sometimes  ,    people  want  their  alone  time  ,    even  if  that  happens  to  be  at  a  dimly  lit  bar  filled  with  people  just  raring  to  talk  and  mingle  with  everyone  else  .    he’s  not  going  to  complain  ,    and  heads  for  the  seat  in  question  ,    slipping  in  to  sit  across  from  her  and  setting  his  drink  down  on  the  table  .

now  that  he’s  closer  ,    he  really  does  think  he  recognises  her  from  something  .    or  somewhere  .    he’s  sure  he’d  remember  if  he  spoke  with  her  before  ,    but  maybe  he’s  just  had  a  little  bit  too  much  .    he’s  still  well  aware  of  everything  .    and  he  knows  himself  well  enough  to  second  guess  .    he’s  still  sober  enough  ,    anyways  .

❝        if  i  had  to  recommend  something  better  ,    i’d  say  the  one  i’m  havin’  ‘s  better  than  most  .    but  i’m  a  little  biased  ,    since  this  is  one  of  my  favourites  .        ❞        he  turns  the  dark  bottle  around  ,    squinting  at  the  label  ,    then  twists  it  around  so  that  it  faces  her  .        ❝        sam  adams  .    a  little  sweeter  than  the  others  ,    but  i  wouldn’t  say    …        ❞        he  peers  at  her  drink  in  thought  for  a  long  moment  .        ❝        wouldn’t  say  it’s  as  sweet  as  that  ,    if  that’s  what  i’m  guessin’  it  is  .    but  compared  to  most  beers  ,    it  is  .        ❞

he  lifts  a  shoulder  ,    looking  off  toward  the  counter  .        ❝        i  can  get  you  one  to  try  ,    if  you  want  .    i  originally  planned  on  gettin’  myself  something  else  ,    but  i  think  i’ve  had  enough  ,    so  …  i’ve  got  the  extra  .        ❞        he  looks  back  towards  her  ,    nagging  feeling  in  the  back  of  his  mind  .    she’s  someone  .        ❝        you  can  come  with  me  ,    make  sure  it’s  freshly  made  ?        ❞

[donutloverxo]

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crossed Wires 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: silverfox!Andy Barber, Cole Turner

Summary: you try to balance your work with your private life as your boss and a new client try to blur the lines. (short!reader)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Cole sighs over his own insulated mug. You want to strangle him already. Does he have to moan with each sip? 

“Mm, coffee,” he pops his wet lips as he sits back, reaching to adjust the passenger seat, “medicine.” 

“Advil, that’s real medicine, there’s some in the compartment,” you say dully. 

“Oh shoot, you’re a life saver, Ma was all out.” 

He clunks the cup into the plastic holder by the console and unclasps the glove compartment. He shakes the bottle in triumph and your fingers tighten on the wheel. He’s like a kid sometimes, though you’ve heard a few compare him to a puppy. You don’t find the latter very apt; puppies are cute. 

“Odinson say what the problem was?” You ask. 

“The back up generator. He’s having some party but the old thing keeps clanking,” Cole explains, “he didn’t say too much about it. He was more into the shindig. Sounds like a good time.” 

You arch a brow. Shindig. 

You drive on. You know it’s going to be tedious job, especially with your boss around. You hate that he insisted. You can handle it on your own. He knows that. In fact, you’re better off without him. You’re only concern is that he gets his wires straight. 

The Odinson hotel greets you in all its resplendence. You park and finish the dregs of your lukewarm coffee. You hop out and grab your bag out of the back as Cole tangles his arm in the seatbelt trying to get out. Lord help you. 

You hike up your bag and take his, marching around to shove it against him. He thanks you and his hands brush yours as he accepts it. You refrain from shaking your head. 

“Come on, no time to waste.” 

You sidestep him and he lingers for a moment, as if he’d expected something more. He’s strange. You’re used to it but you still notice.  

He jogs to catch up with you and you approach the front doors together. He yelps as Thor bursts through them but you don’t flinch. As often as you’ve dealt with the boisterous man, you expect it. He’s loud and bold. If Cole is a puppy, he’s a full grown labrador. 

“There you are. And you brought the lady,” Thor nods in your direction, “excellent. Never bad to have an extra set of hands. Especially such pretty ones.” 

You could scoff. Your nails are cut short and neat, your fingers marred by callouses and cuts, and your skin to dry for comfort. You stare as Cole stutters awkward. 

“Uh, m-morning, Thor,” he greets. 

“Ah, still recovering?” Thor challenges and comes up next to Cole, clapping his back so he squeaks. “I told you not to challenge me.” 

“Huh, yeah, well...” 

You don’t ask. You don’t care. 

“We had a bit of a drinking contest last night, lady. You should have been there. Did he not mention that I valiantly carried him home?” 

You could snort. You don’t, but you could. You glance over. 

“Sounds irresponsible.” 

Thor laughs as he opens the door and beckons you both through. They let you ahead. You always hated that practice. You’re fine following them. 

“Ha, I like this one,” he declares, “she is honest.” 

“Heh, yeahhh,” Cole drags out the word nervously. “Very.” 

“Anyhow, I have much work to do. The party will be here before we know it,” Thor declares and goes ahead of you to lead you. 

You follow him down the narrow stairway near the rear of the hotel with Cole at your back. He’s closer than your like, just on the step behind you. Once more his hand brushes yours as he gets a bit too eager near the bottom and knocks into you from behind. You let out a growl. 

You pass the laundries where you previously rewired a few machines and carry on to the electric room. Thor flips on the crackling light, revealing a row of generators in varying condition. He steps up to the most ragged and taps it with his knuckles. 

“This one has been talking,” he explains. “Rather loudly. I think it is a cry for help.” 

You step forward without hesitation. Cole stands back as you reach into your bag and grab your multitool. You swiftly unscrew the control panel and look inside. Your examination is thorough as you slip behind to flash a light through the slatted venting there. 

“Ah, yes, she is small. She fits where you cannot,” Thor comments. 

“Uh, sure,” Cole agrees. 

“Anyhow, this party,” Thor intones, “are you coming? There will be lots of pretty girls.” 

“Oh, well...” Cole hesitates. You don’t know why. He’s a horrid flirt but brazen regardless. And a romantic to boot. He’s the type to bore you to death with his fairytale fantasies. “Maybe.” 

“You will come,” Thor insists, “I know you will. And lady,” Thor raises his voice, “of course the invitation extends to you as well.” 

“Mm, not much into parties,” you grumble as you poke your head out. “It smells like burning toast.” 

“Perhaps the kitchen...” Thor suggests. 

“You didn’t mention the burning smell. I need to shut this down, now. The switch will reroute to the others but the problem isn’t the back up. It’s this one. It needs a replacement.” 

“The others will hold?” 

“For a time,” you go back to the control panel and fiddle inside. “Tell the cleaner not to run the washers and dryers at the same time for now.” 

“Right,” Thor agrees grimly. “Can we have the new one by the party?” 

“Certainly can. Get Cole the money and I’ll pick up a generator today.” 

“Today?” They echo in unison. 

“They got an overstock place in the city. I’ll get one there,” you pause as the generator putters out as you shut it down. 

“Yeah, we’ll go get a new one and invoice you,” Cole adds. 

“We?” You screw the panel back on. 

“Yeah, it’ll be big, right?” He smiles. 

You look at him, “I have a dolly.” 

“I could use the drive. Clear out the cobwebs,” he turns to Thor and offers his hand, “I’ll send over the paperwork.” 

“You’re a fine man, Turner,” Thor shakes his hand. “But you leave all the behind for the party. It’s going to get wild.” 

[tarrenterror25]

Alfred Pennyworth (Batman 2022) x F!Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: Summary: Part 1 - You take a chance on asking the elusive butler of Wayne Manor for a dance and perhaps a bit more.

Tags: MxF, slight employer/employee relationship, mention of explicit themes, dancing, kissing, reader makes first move

🔥NSFW🔥

Notes: This was inspired by Sextape by Deftones in case anyone wants to be more immersed as they read. I picked a version that was slowed with reverb that can be found here. Anyways, I hope this reaches the, ahem, respective audiences who also went to see Batman 2022 for a 2nd time for Andy as Alfred. And then played it endlessly as soon as it released on HBO Max, but only skipped to his scenes.

“He’s the one who likes all our pretty songs and he likes to sing along and he-”

Next.

“Hello, I've waited here for you, everlong. Tonight, I thro-”

Next.

“In my eyes, indisposed, in disguises no one knows.”

You lower the volume on the retrofitted jukebox that is strategically placed in the sitting room. There’s not a television here since Bruce is always away or in his...study. You had helped yourself to the music player to break the silence of the manor.

The melancholy tune plays in the background as you walk over to the coffee table and pour yourself another cup of tea. The other accountants had already left after breakfast, but Alfred was kind enough to offer refreshments and invite you to stay.

The butler enters the sitting room with a smile as you sway absentmindedly to the music while you drink from your cup. “You and Master Wayne share a similar taste in music, I take it,” he says.

You smile. “It’s alright,” you say, “A little too much grunge in his selection for me, personally.”

You set down the cup and brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your hair was originally put up in a neat and professional updo for when you arrived for business, but it had since started to come undone. You also had removed your jacket and tossed it onto the couch before rolling up the sleeves of your blouse. Alfred still looked perfectly put together as ever. He always did every time he and Bruce would come to Wayne Enterprises.

You missed seeing Alfred whenever he and Bruce stopped showing up to the office, though you’re sure he doesn’t know that. You admire that he is always so considerate and ever the gentleman whenever you see him; he holds open doors, you remember when he held your hand to help you up some stairs once, and today he took your coat when you arrived. No matter what, he is the definition of poise. Even when the others at the office make jabs about Bruce Wayne, Alfred is quick with a witty comment to defend him.

“What do you like to listen to?” you ask.

“Hm?” Alfred blinks a few times in surprise. “Oh, well, I tend to favor, um, let’s see...The Kinks? Fleetwood Mac? Master Wayne of course tends to like darker tones.”

“And where is Mr. Wayne now?” you ask boldly.

You see Alfred’s smile fade ever so slightly and your heart races with the panic of having hurt him.

“I mean, I don’t want to impose on either of you. I know he’s very busy and you must be as well,” you clarify; the words practically spill out of your mouth.

“No worries, Miss,” Alfred says. “He is taking care of some personal affairs and I am more than delighted to have your company.”

You smile and he returns it.

You peel your gaze away from him before it becomes too long that you are staring. Even for a much older man, Alfred is very handsome and well built. How often you’ve had to avert your gaze from him when he stopped by Wayne Enterprises. You notice Alfred’s hand that rests on his cane and imagine where you want his hands to touch you; how they would look gripping you.

“Probably the choice is music is why Mr. Wayne never attends those parties. Too dance-y, I suppose,” you say jokingly as you pick up your cup.

Alfred chuckles. “I can assure you that Bruce is not exactly one for dancing.”

You peek at him from over the rim of porcelain cup. “Are you?” you ask before taking a drink.

Alfred chuckles again though this time you sense he is somewhat morose. “No, no, not these days, I’m afraid,” he says.

He walks over to the jukebox to browse its selections. You watch him walk with his back to you. He sets the cane against the jukebox and you set your cup down on the table. You steel yourself as your smooth out your blouse and brush back your hair a bit. Your stride over to him is sure and steady though inside you’re a nervous wreck. When the sound of your footsteps stops behind him, Alfred turns to face you. His brow furrows as he senses something is on your mind.

“Would you dance...with me?” you ask looking up into his eyes.

You scold yourself for the shake in your voice, but your gaze never leaves his.

“Right now?” he asks with a raised brow.

“I don’t see why not,” you reply. You beg whatever higher power there may be that he does not rebuff you. You’re interest in him has been and is a well kept secret, but it’s now that you realize you may never have this chance again to be this close.

When Alfred stopped showing up to Wayne Enterprises, you felt an ache in your core, in your soul, for him. Never mind the fact that you also fantasized about him and did so often; you imagine how it feels to hold him and to be held by him, how his lips feel against yours, and how he feels inside-

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to dance to any of these, um, particular selections, miss,” Alfred says with a soft chuckle.

You blush at being brought out of your daydream and look away hoping he doesn’t notice. “I understand,” you say, “My question was silly and-”

“No, no,” Alfred assures you and places his hands comfortingly on your shoulders. “It’s rather unexpected, but quite refreshing to be honest. Here.”

He turns to the jukebox and pushes a few buttons before he takes your hand and leads you to a more open space in the sitting room.

Floating underwater ever changing picture hours out from land, in tune with all our dreams.

One of your hands comes to rest on his shoulder and his hand naturally finds its place on your waist while his other hand embraces yours. Once your bodies settle into position, you begin to dance.

The moment absorbs you as he holds you close and occasionally spins you slowly before he brings you back to him, Notes of sage from his cologne fill your senses and you think of how much you want his scent all over you and how much of yours you want to leave on him.

“You dance very well,” you say softly looking up into his eyes.

“As do you,” he says.

You rest your head against his chest.

“May I ask,” he starts, “what brought on this request?”

You heart pounds loudly in your ears and the heat that encompasses your body makes its way further down. His voice alone does this to you and you close your eyes as you try to compose yourself for an answer.

“At the office,” you say still resting your head against him, “Mr. Wayne stopped coming and so did you and I- you- and-...I missed you.”

Your admission escapes at almost a whisper. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I first met you,” you say.

You pull away from his chest to look up at his face.

“I’m very honored to have caught your eye then,” Alfred says softly.

You feel your breath mingle with his and chance moving in closer.

Take me one more time, take me one more wave, take me for one last ride.

Alfred meets you halfway and his lips find yours.

I'm out of my head.

Your arms waste no time in wrapping around him and he responds with his hands on your waist, gently guiding your body to press against his.

Your burning desire for him has you overcome with lust, but everything he does is gentle and slow. The way he’s kissing you down to your jawline and to your neck is torturous to the need between your legs. You don’t hesitate to open yourself up to him; the tickle of his beard making you imagine feeling it somewhere else.

You practically pant with want when he pulls away from you.

“Forgive me,” Alfred says, “I hope I didn’t misread your intentions.”

You frame his face in your hands. “Only if you don’t intend on taking me before Mr. Wayne returns,” you say boldly.

Alfred is taken aback and you’re sure you could see a blush across his face. “Perhaps, not here then,” he says huskily.

The sound of the waves collide...

[x3kristax3]

Is this the end?

A/N: the storm has arrivived.... with Jake and MC make it through the group?. This was probably my favorite chapter because everyone comes into if.

⚠️T/W: violence, cursing, talk about past suicide, talk about mental issues

Chapter 7

After a day of just Jessy and I hanging out and doing our normal Saturday things, an early morning is a must to get ready to head to Duskwood with Andy for Dan and Lilly’s engagement party. I had sent Jake over the information and he agreed to meet us there since Jessy and I promised Lilly and Dan we would help set up the Aurora since the bar was our’s for the entire day.

After two hour drive and my nervous being on edge we pull into the parking lot of the bar. The Dan and Thomas are standing outside with the kids playing while Hannah, Lilly, Cleo, and Phil are all inside getting things started.

“Hey MC” Dan says as he hugs me tight. “Where is your plus one?”

“He’s coming by later I told him the time and where to come.” I say knowing I’m going to have to break the news eventually to him and Thomas.

Andy stays out there and they pack up the kids to go take them to the park for a bit because there is still a few more hours. Jessy and I head inside and I see Phil wiping down glasses at the bar. I let out a sigh knowing in my head already this is going to be an emotional day.

A couple hour laters we’re all finally set up just at the time is about the start for people to show up. I walk up to the bar and grab a seat looking at Phil.

“Still have that bottle of Jack with my name on it?” I ask with a laugh.

“You know i keep that hidden for you. Everything okay MC? You haven’t asked about this bottle in a while.” He says as he grabs it and glass “on the rocks or neat?”

“A double neat please” I say, as i hear my phone go off next to me. Phil hands me my drink and I down it real fast. 

“Slow down we don’t need a repeat of last time” he says with a smile.

I get up and see the text is Jake saying he’s outside. Just as Dan and everyone else walks in with the kids. I look at Jessy and pull her close “can you take the kids back outside for a moment? He’s here and I don’t want them to see what is probably going to happen,” I say into her ear.

‘Yeah of course.” she grabs Andy and they both grab a kid as I sigh and head to the door. 

“MC I think your plus one is here” says Dan as he walks in..

“Yeah he texted me, I’ll be right in with him” I say not turning around.

I head outside and see his car. I walk up to him and he gets out. “You look amazing” he says with that smile.

“Thanks, I’m super stressed about what is about to happen.” I say as I play with the ring he gave me on the chain I put it on this morning.

“Hey its going to be okay.” he ask as he see’s Jessy and Andy, he pulls me in for a hug to help me relax. 

I take his hand and walk back inside, he opens the door for me and we walk in. Everyone is staring at us, well more like Jake for having the nerve to show back up.

Hannah comes walking up to us first, “how could you lie to me about my brother? You said you hadn’t had contact with him!” she exclaims.

“Lets all sit down and talk, okay” I say not ready for this talk.

“No you have some explaining to do MC” exclaims Dan.

I stand in front of Jake because I have a feeling Dan or Phil are going to swing at him but they won’t if I’m between them. “Yes and that’s what I’m going to do” I say looking at his face.

“He’s not allowed in my bar!” yells Phil. “is that why you wanted a double neat whiskey?” 

“I wanted it to get the courage to tell you all what happened these last two days!” I yell, getting annoyed as I feel my chest get tight. I really wish I didn't have that whiskey now.

I grab Jakes hand and goes to a table and sit down trying to calm myself down before something happens.

“Everything okay?” asks Jake as he pushes the hair out of my face.

“No she’s having a panic attack and she had a drink so she can’t take her meds!” yells Phil.

Jake pulls me close putting my head against his chest and just holding me letting me smell, and feel him as I hear his heartbeat. I finally calm myself down as I look into his eyes and he kisses my forehead.

“Can we all just stop yelling for a bit?” I ask looking at the gang.

“Fine but you have to explain.” says Lilly.

“Yeah you told us, he wasn’t welcomed back into your life.” says Cleo.

“Okay so you know how I do the monthly dinner with his mom right?” I ask. 

Everyone says yes at the same time about.

“Well I went over there Friday like normal and he was there. I almost left but out of respect for her I stayed. One thing led to another…” I say in thought.

“We don’t need to hear every detail” says Dan.

“Nothing like that happened Dan.” I say rolling my eyes at him and Hannah laughs at it. “We got to talking and my heart felt like home again. You all know for the last three years I have been looking for that feeling but never found it, it's because he’s my home” I say, grabbing his hand.

“Why didnt you tell me Friday night when we talked?” asked Hannah.

“Why didn’t you tell me your plus one was my brother?” asks Lilly.

“I knew everyone was going to be upset for me letting me back into my life. I made the call to keep us a secret. however , Hannah after our conversation and you wanting him in the kids life again, made me second guess myself. I talked to him that night and we decided to tell you all” I say. 

Jake goes and stands up and next thing I know Phil punches him, “ I waited three years to do that to you” he exclaims. Jake punches him back to make ite ven.

“God damn it Phil and Jake !” I yell as Jessy comes walking in to get the kids a drink. 

I take Jakes hand and bring him into thee kitchen and grab some ice and towel to give him.

Dan come bolting through the kitchen door angry at me.

"You have some explaining to do now!" Yells Dan pointing at me.

Jake stands in front of me to protect me but i go around him. "So what? I'm giving him another chance. How many times did Jessy give you a chance before she ended it fully? How many times have I helped you fixed things with Lilly to make it so you could propose to her Dan!?" I yell getting in his face.

"I never cheated on either of them!" He yells back "he purposely hurt you MC! he left you for 3 years while you put your heart back together" he explains.

"Don't think I don't remember it all. I remember running down the road fucking drunk out of my mind. Falling to the pavement cause I was wanting to give up. I remember sitting in a fucking tub trying to drown myself and Jessy pullung me out. I remember standing in the shower fully clothed just wanting everything to end. I also remember the first moment I laid eyes on him after finding Hannah. I remember that first touch, the first kiss, the first time I heard him tell me 'I love you MC' I remember all of it. I remember his mom taking me in with welcome arms when I moved out here because she understood my pain of him leaving." I yell and he decides to just walk away.

Jakes POV

I follow MC into the kitchen and lean against the counter. I watch her grab a ziplock, ice, and a clean towel and put it to my face. Fuck why did I have to screw things up back then with her. We would probably be married with at least a kid by now. I flinch as she adjusts the ice and the cold hits a different spot. I’m so focused on the towel on my face and her that I don’t even notice Dan but I somehow put myself between her and him for a second. After he leave’s she comes back to me and puts her hand on the towel

I grab her hand thats on the towel as the door swing open again and its Phil. I try and not make any remarks as he kisses MC on the cheek. 

"Wheres my ice?" He asks.

"You know where it is" she says snarky back. She doesnt take her eyes off me.

Jessy comes walking in "everyone else is starting to show up" she claims as she looks at the guys. "You  both deserved that" as she turns and walks away.

I see MC giggle at that comment as I hold her hand tightly. "Whats so funny?" I ask her.

"It's the truth." She giggles again. "You deserve it for hurting me like you did the last time we were here and Phil deserved it for punching you" she says with that smile of hers that drives me crazy.

"So wait, I deserve it just because I protected you?" Phil claims coming back with a towel.

"You are the first person to know I don't need to be protected" she says crossing her arms as he walks out to the bar.

I put the ice down and grab her waist. I kiss her gently and someone calls her name. Shes pulls away and starts walking out.

"You coming?" She says in a voice that I know all too well. Her loving side towards me has come back out and I don't know what I've done right.

"I'll be right there" I say as I watch her leave. I pull out my phone and I look through an album that has old pictures of her and I together from all those years ago and my doubt starts rushing over me again.

What did I do to deserve her love still? Why does she still look at me with such love? Is this really fate that brought us back together after the way I treated her? 

I get lost in my mind not realizing someone came in. "Jake?" I hear a females voice and look up and see Lilly.

"Hi Lilly, I know you weren't expecting me to be here today, so thank you" I say, still looking at the last photo.

"What you looking at?" She asks walking closer and looking at it. "You never deleted the pictures of you and her?" She looks surpised.

"I couldn't, she was my world and I let myself get in my head and lose her" I say looking at Lilly.

"Theres something you need to see" she says taking my hand and taking me back into the bar where MC is running around in her heels and dress playing with the little ones and she doesn't even notice. "That's what you let yourself lose, Jake. A woman who's caring, forgiving, independent,  stubborn, but most importantly loved by this group here. You're going to have to win us all back to get her back."

I let out a sigh as I watch MC for once my little sister is right. She moved out here because of this group after everything with me and her she still choice this as her home. I lean against the bar just watching as she amazes me more and more.

MC's POV

With running around with the little ones in heels and this dress I'm getting a little tired out. I stop and the little ones wrap their arms around my legs begging me not to stop. I finally get them off my legs and I look up and see Jake and Lilly standing at the bar talking.

I walk up to Thomas and Hannah and sit down next to her. "I see Jake and Phil got into it" she says with a laugh.

"Honestly, I wouldn't expect anything less between those two guys. They never got along and after the last time Jake was here, I'm surprised it was one punch each." I look over at Jake and I catch him looking at me.

"You know he's still in love with you right?" She asks.

"Yeah, I know. I just honestly don't know if I'm still in love with him as much as I used to be." I say looking away from him.

"He broke your trust MC. I'm surprised you let him back in" says Thomas reaching for my hand.

"So you guys really want to name this little one after me? Of all names in the world you want a little MC running around?" I say with a laugh .

"Yes!" They both exclaim.

"Morgan Caroline" I say softly. They both smile "don't dare tell anyone it's my name" I say staring at both of them.

"We won't," Hannah promises.

I'm so focused in the conversation I dont realize Jake has walked up as hannah promises.

"MC do you have a moment?" He asks. "Hi Hannah and Thomas. Congratulations on everything." 

I hear the nervousness in his voice. "Yeah'' I say as I stand up and even with my heels I still have to look up at him. 

"Oh and I dont think that statement you made is 100% true" Hannah states with a smile.

I turn to her "hush" I say, giving her a death glare.

As I stand up their little boy Chris runs up to me. "Auntie MC" he says looking up at me.

I crouch down to his level. "Yes Chris?"

"Can I have one of those pops?" He asks so politely.

I look at Hannah and she shakes her head. "Sure let's go get it" as I pick him up "sorry Jake, Aunt Duty calls" I say with a smile.

"I'll wait for you here" he says as I can tell he wants to kiss my cheek and I feel myself blushing.

I head into the kitchen with Chris and grab him a small one and get myself a soda.

I walk out of the kitchen and see him talking to Hannah and I lean against the doorway. 

"Hey, no your not allowed to look at him like that" exclaims Dan.

"She can if she wants" says Jessy crossing her arms.

"No he has to earn it back" Dan exclaims.

I tune them out as I watch him and Chris runs up to him and asks Jake to hold him which he does.

"Earth to MC" says Jessy waving her hand in my face which catches my eye.

"What, yeah, sorry. I need to step outside" I say as I walk outside for a moment to catch my breath from watching Jake with Chris.

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips. 

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago. 

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place. 

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back. 

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air. 

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling. 

"Hey, Mom." You answered. 

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now.  "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation.  "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...."  "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought.  There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?"  You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer.  “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind.  Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

[fckinsupreme]

can u do andy jacking off while thinking abt the reader and what he would do to her? love ur writing btw <3

A visit from Andy’s old friend Y/F/N Y/L/N was long overdue, and it was one that Andy had been counting down.

How many years had it been now, since they last saw one another? Two? Three? Andy couldn’t remember; all he knew was the happiness at seeing her again. A visit from her, it seemed, was just what the doctor had ordered for his limited joy nowadays. When she finally came, the pay off for years’ absence was worth it. Seeing Y/N in all of her glory, noticing the glow in her skin, that smile on her face, was more intoxicating than any drink or drug could ever hope to be.

Their days of acting together left Andy joyful, and while his own career was in the tank, hers was thriving. He was happy for her, another rarity for him these days. Usually he was bitter for what he had lost, but not where Y/N was concerned. She was one of the very few people he allowed in and didn’t close out, and one of the few who stuck by him through all of his bullshit. If that wasn’t a true friend, then what was? Then there was the feelings he had always harbored for her, and the way he felt with her every time they were together. He had no idea how deeply his feelings for her truly ran, but he knew that he must act quickly.

Tonight, he was lying in his bed after they spent the day swimming and drinking afterwards, watching the setting sun from the pool deck. His mind began to turn to the day’s events, and how good Y/N had looked. He could see the bikini she wore—one that left very little to the imagination on both the top and bottom. It was probably as scantily clad as he had ever seen her, and it was something that he had not expected. He knew her body was probably amazing, but he had no idea how true that was until he had seen it like that. And at the very thought of that alone, his boxers grew tight, and his balls began to throb uncomfortably.

“Shit,” he hissed, palming himself over his boxers with a soft whimper.

Scenes of the day play in his mind, and he closes his eyes against them. He can see her, with her skin shining in the sun, her breasts glittering with a sheen of sweat and almost fully exposed in the bikini top. He can see her standing up to get a drink of water, walking away from him, her ass shaking as if on purpose as she moved. He whines softly, hissing as he gives in to the temptation to touch himself even more. He keeps palming himself, but applies a bit more pressure, his eyes still closed as his breathing comes in tiny pants.

And then he is imagining her in the pool. He can see the water dripping from her breasts, the way it dipped into her collarbones, the way the sun shone in her wet, slicked back hair. He could also see clearly, in his mind, her hard nipples poking through the fabric of her bikini. He groans again, tugging his full erection from his boxers and beginning to jerk himself off to the very thought of it. He can still smell her skin, an intoxicating mix of chlorine and floral perfume, and can feel the way her fingers brushed against his skin. This caused an influx of other thoughts, ones that weren’t entirely unwelcome. He imagined himself pulling her body close to his, feeling the wet warmth of her skin against his, smelling the sun-kissed scent of her skin. He imagined burying his face in her neck, kissing it roughly as she moaned her appreciation in his ear, her hands clawing at his hair. He imagined feeling her breasts pressed against his chest, now completely out as her movement & the water of the pool finished removing the bikini top. He can see himself taking her nipple between his lips, sucking and tugging with his teeth, hearing her mewl and feeling the nipple hardening under his relentless touch.

“Fucking shit,” he moans, increasing the speed of his movements as he feels his balls begin to tighten.

The scene in his mind changes, and now she is lying back on one of the poolside chairs. He is kneeling between her legs, tasting her, relishing in the way she moaned and pulled his hair. He wondered if she tasted sweet, if she would be the best tasting pussy he ever had, and he had an inkling that she could be. He pictures how good she would look from his position on the ground, her breasts heaving, her face twisted in pleasure, and his hand works faster. He makes a neat fist around his hard, throbbing cock, moving it up, then back down, slowly at first and then increasing the pace.

It isn’t the image of him eating her pussy that gets him off, nor is it the one that immediately follows of her sucking his cock. The winner was the image of him fucking her, of how warm, tight, and wet she would feel bouncing on his cock by the side of the pool. How fast she did it, how hard, how her tits bounced with every slam of her hips. His hands ran over them, then down her hips, then her clit as he thrust up to meet her movements, and then he was cumming, thick ropes of it spurting between his fingers and into his fist as he groans filthily. His lashes flutter, his chest moves, his eyes squeeze shut, and he rides out the aftershocks with her on his mind.

He takes several minutes to himself, coming back down from his high and enjoying the ride. The thought of her still would not leave his head, despite his orgasm, and a smirk dances across his face as he lights a cigarette. He inhales, slowly breathing out the smoke as the smirk widens. She had several days left of her visit; what if he invited her over tomorrow, and tried his luck? There was a chance she would not be on board, but what if she was? Why let that opportunity pass him by so easily and so foolishly?

He flicks his ashes into the ashtray, his mind turning over the many beautiful possibilities.

———————

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